


we have no choice but to accept that we can't run forever

by multifoliate



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: (slaps roof of fic) this bad boy can fit so many secret identity shenanigans in it, Characters pretend that it’s not actually sex if it doesn’t involve penetration, Enemies With Complicated Mutual Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, snowed in and forced to confront their deep-seeded feelings for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28910259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifoliate/pseuds/multifoliate
Summary: Something goes very wrong and Spider-Man and Doctor Octopus find themselves stranded in the Arctic. Some quick thinking keeps them from freezing to death, but being in close quarters brings a few things that Peter Parker, at least, was trying not to think about to the surface, and everything comes to a head when he makes a very unwise decision.
Relationships: Otto Octavius/Peter Parker
Kudos: 13
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21





	we have no choice but to accept that we can't run forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinetikatrue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinetikatrue/gifts).



For the first time since Spider-Man had met Doctor Octopus, the man seemed speechless. Which was good, because it gave Peter a minute to make sure the webbing was working the way it was supposed to: porous enough to let them get enough oxygen, but thick and insulating enough to keep out the worst of the wind and the bitter cold.

"Why are you doing this?"

 _There_ it was. He'd expected Doc Ock to be more accusatory, though. Instead there was suspicion there, but he also sounded deep in thought; Peter could almost hear the gears whirring in his head, or maybe it was more like a computer making lightning-fast connections. Despite that Ock often got furious at him, it was so easy to think of his mind working like a machine.

"Because I doubt either of our longjohns were going to do anything for us in about five minutes? Even if you have that coat which, let me just say, feels a little unfair right now. We can both power through a lot but the Arctic is a little hard to just shrug off. -Whoa, be careful not to rip that! I think I used up most of my webfluid making this thing, we might not get a second shot."

Ock paused from prodding and testing at the inside of the web-cocoon with one of his tentacley arms. Instead, he looked back at Spider-Man again, and the tentacle swiveled as if to look at him as well, which was just creepy. And also kind of... not creepy. Which Peter was doing his best not to think about, thank you.

"After all these many months, after I've tried to kill you so many times, you still decided to save my life?"

"I mean." Was this even really a question? _Geez._ "Despite what you apparently think, I've never wanted you dead, Doc. I put on this suit so _no one_ has to die." Not even supervillains.

Ock was frowning, seeming unsatisfied with that logic, and Peter tensed up a little his other arms started to move. Two of them he couldn't even see, they were close enough to feel and hear, but the two leftmost ones looked kinda threatening. "But would you choose to exchange your life for mine? You'd never be able to escape me, Spider-Man, not if I decided to kill you here."

"Okay, first," he raised a hand, "the struggle could rip this thing and then we're back to square one again. So don't do that. Second, you really don't know me at all if you think I won't risk my life for you. For anyone. Third, wouldja calm those things down? It's crowded in here."

There was a tense moment, but then Ock let his tentacles relax again. Peter relaxed slightly too.

"Besides," he continued, a little more quietly. There weren't many places to look, so he looked straight ahead at the white, stringy wall of the web-cocoon. "You saved my life. Didn't have to, but you did."

They didn't talk about that. They just didn't. When Scorpion had gotten the idea to put poison on that tailblade of his, Doctor Octopus had come along and decided to inject Spider-Man with the cure. Hadn't even removed his mask. Peter knew because someone had gotten pictures of it and Jolly Jonah Jameson had had a _field day_ publishing articles and editorials about how that proved Spider-Man had always been in league with the supervillains. But Spider-Man and Doctor Octopus hadn't exchanged a single word about it... Or, rather, Spider-Man had started to say 'thank you' the once, gotten partway through the first word, and Ock had clotheslined him through a wall.

" _I_ will be the one to destroy you, Spider-Man," Ock said after a pause. "That is why."

Peter thought about that. For a few moments, it made a depressing kind of sense, but then he shook his head. "Nah. You're egotistical, but not that kind of egotistical."

"What, then? You think I feel any sort of attachment to you?"

That made his heart twinge for reasons he didn't want to think about. He sidestepped it entirely. "Maybe you're just not a killer at heart. You try to avoid civilian casualties all the time."

"They are unnecessary," Ock argued. "And inefficient."

"Besides," Peter said, "you've said we're alike before. We've fought a lot this past year. Half the time you just throw me out a window or drop a building on me, you know by now that doesn't kill me."

Ock shifted, and Peter couldn't see his eyes, but he thought he seemed uncomfortable. And Peter remembered something else they didn't talk about.

Their fights were like a dance. He'd gotten so used to dodging and winding through those arms by now, and in return it seemed like Ock had gotten used to said dodging and winding, so that there was something graceful to the way they did combat whenever Spider-Man caught him at some crime. And the exhileration he felt when fighting Ock sometimes... It wasn't like any of the battles he had with his other villains, nothing like anything he felt _anywhere_ else. And despite the fierce grins Ock got sometimes while fighting him, he'd thought he was the only one feeling it.

Except a few weeks prior he'd gotten in past Ock's defenses, that whirling dervish of arms, yanked his webbing tight and brought Ock's arms out from under him, brought him down with him to the floor. Peter had hit the ground in a crouch and Ock had gone to his knees, and they had been close, and Ock's lips had parted in a gasp that didn't seem pained.

And maybe he'd been imagining it. He kind of hoped he'd been imagining it. But this wasn't anywhere near the first time Peter had remembered it, either.

"I find it hard to believe you would actually admit that we're alike, arachnid." Ock's voice was more even, softer, which did not help matters even a little. When Ock sounded calm there was silk in his voice. Peter couldn't look him in the face because he was pretty sure he'd mostly just be focusing on his mouth.

"I doubt we're alike in the ways you probably mean. But yeah, we have some things in common."

"You're a scientist, aren't you? You must make your own web-fluid."

It was Peter's turn to shift. He wanted to be. If he ended up going to Empire State University, he'd be going to the same university Otto Octavius had graduated from, even. He couldn't say any of that, not least because he didn't want to give any hints about his age in case some supervillain, maybe not even Ock, decided it was a good idea to start attacking NYC high schools.

"Yeah. A chemist," he said instead. He did a lot of chemistry! It wasn't a lie! "But you won't be able to figure out who I really am from that, so don't try. I don't know why you didn't just take off my mask before..."

He was breaking the unspoken rule by bringing it up again, but again Ock answered after a moment's hesitation. "It... felt unfair."

He had a feeling that was closer to the truth of why Ock hadn't let him die, too. God help him, he _wanted_ there to be some attachment there, but...

What he said instead, though, was, "So it's not just all calculation in there. I mean, I know it's not. You get _really_ ticked off at me. And, you're losing your patience right now, huh?"

Ock groaned. Peter didn't know whether to laugh or shiver. "Is there any way to make you be quiet?"

"There could be." Oh boy, his mouth was going to get him into trouble. Ock's mouth was going to get him into trouble too. He'd looked over and, yep, his eyes kept going to Ock's lips. The two of them really were close, pressed together because of the cocoon, and Ock was a lot of things Peter didn't want to think about but had been thinking about for, he had to admit it, a lot longer than a few weeks. Warm, soft. Terrifyingly comfortable.

"Look, this is weird." He let his mouth run away before he could make himself stop talking. "But I need to try something, and I'd like to ask you not to try to kill me. Thanks."

"What are you talking a..." Ock looked over to him, brows furrowed, and trailed off as Peter pulled up the bottom of his mask over his mouth and nose. He was pretty sure he could see the moment Ock's brain did a soft reboot and had to back up. "About," he finished the word absently, as if he couldn't not, then asked a bit more apprehensive, "What are you doing?"

"Just humor me." Peter's voice was soft and he startled himself to hear the desperate thread that ran through it. But he was already leaning in and it was too late to back out now. This wasn't exactly the kind of thing he wanted to claim as a joke, anyway.

Ock had partly opened his mouth to say something, and he almost flinched back when Peter's mouth met his, but there wasn't exactly anywhere to go in the cocoon. Peter quickly parted his own lips against his and felt as much as heard him gasp, felt his hand come up and grab the edge of the mask.

He closed his eyes, reached up to grab his hand, stop Ock from pulling his mask off. For a moment, the- man, the supervillain, oh, God, what was he doing? Ock froze, didn't do anything at all, and Peter was about to jerk back himself and actually apologize, though whether to Doctor Octopus or to himself or to the universe at large he wasn't sure.

He felt Ock's mouth move against his, felt the fingers curled into the mask against his cheek tremble very slightly. The noise he made in his throat was so quiet he wasn't sure Ock would be able to hear him even given how close they were.

Then Ock's hand pulled down on his mask, not up, catching him totally off guard and effectively drawing a curtain on the kiss. Peter blinked his eyes open.

"No," Ock said quietly, then more strongly, "No." Then, "No no no." That last seemed so close to panic that Peter actually felt guilty, letting go of Ock's hand and, maybe unwisely, putting his hand on his arm instead.

"Hey," he said. "It's okay. It-"

"It- _What?!_ " Ock's voice went up in pitch if not in volume. His face was completely red and he could hear (and sort of feel, and sort of see, in part) his metal arms winding anxiously in the air. Which would be funny, even cute, if Peter didn't feel so bad. "How could this possibly be 'okay'?"

"Kind of making me feel self-conscious, Doc." He tried to make his voice light, but he could tell that joke was falling as flat as... well, as all the quips he tossed at Doctor Octopus did, inevitably. He did not like "the arachnid's" sense of humor. Peter could also tell he was about five seconds from going from panicked to livid, if that, and in the world's most boneheaded attempt to cut that off he admitted in a rush, "God, do you know how long I've been thinking about that?"

Ock froze entirely. Even his metal arms seemed to go slack. "You can't mean that."

"Weeks. Months, even-"

"Don't." Ock's voice was a rough whisper. "Don't start this, arachnid."

 _Start_ this? That was a weird way of putting it. "Maybe I'm not starting it. Maybe we've been heading toward this..."

"No."

"...for a while now... Is that why you're panicking?"

"I am not panicking!" Ock shouted, and his arms bristled back up again, even if there wasn't much 'up' to go. Peter's spider-sense didn't go off at all.

"You kissed me back," he said, and he didn't have far to reach out to press his hand to Ock's chest. His heart was hammering.

"This can't happen." Ock was quiet again, almost calm again. "You do understand that, don't you? No matter..." He trailed off, then tried again. "No matter..."

Peter realized he was smiling under his mask. He reached up with his other hand and pulled it up over his nose again. "'No matter' what? You kissed me back," he repeated.

He saw Ock swallow, saw his throat work, eyes immediately drawn there like they'd been drawn to his lips. "That was a mistake."

"Then let it be a mistake." He pressed his lips to Ock's throat and felt his pulse there, felt him swallow again. Ock tilted his head back and Peter's heart leapt. Excitement? Elation? Fear?

"We must never speak of this again," Ock whispered.

"No promises." His mouth moved against Ock's throat as he spoke and he felt the tremor that went through him. Metal arms wound around him, and then one of Ock's actual hands landed on the top of his head and pulled his head back to look at him.

"This isn't-" Ock began, but Peter groaned, lips parted, and he cut off with a muttered curse. That time Ock kissed him, abrupt and hard, and Peter finally wrapped his arms around him and kissed back.

He somehow hadn't been expecting the desperation, or at least not quite so much of it. From Ock or from himself. There was a hunger in the way Ock kissed him now that he was allowing himself to, and Peter had imagined drawing his lower lip between his teeth but could not possibly have imagined that sound he'd make when he did. The mask was awkward, the goggles that Ock didn't seem interested in removing were awkward, but that didn't keep Peter from pressing closer or Ock's hands from starting to explore Peter's spandex-covered body.

Peter arched as Ock's hands slipped to his lower back, and he pressed his thigh in between Ock's legs, swallowing the gasp he gave. Doctor Octopus was hard under that jumpsuit of his, and if Peter thought about that too much he was either going to lose his nerve or come right then, he wasn't sure which. So when it seemed like he might be about to say something, Peter pressed his tongue between his parting lips to taste his mouth, moaning as he made a strangled sound instead.

Ock's hands found his hips, and a metal arm slipped between his legs, and despite not wanting to let Ock talk a second ago Peter was the one to break the kiss then. "Oh, _fuck_ ," turned out to be the first thing Spider-Man said that made Doctor Octopus laugh, a low, breathless chuckle that shot right down Peter's spine. "Holy..." He was breathless, "I need to make you laugh more often."

Ock reached up and covered his mouth with one hand, not too firmly. "Don't," he said. "Don't think about that."

He couldn't not think about it. And they couldn't undo this. Ock had been right, and this was definitely a mistake, but as Ock rocked against his thigh and moved his metal arm to wind around his waist, reaching to press his other hand to Peter's hard cock right through his costume, he couldn't regret it or want to turn back, either.

Something had changed in Ock, too; he watched Peter's face, looking almost contemplative, as he stroked his length, pressing his cock against his stomach, and Peter's hips rocked into the touch. His hand shifted from Peter's mouth to cup his jaw instead, fingers curled at his throat and thumb stroking his lips.

Peter took his thumb into his mouth, bit and sucked at it, and _there_ was that look, he'd been right, that hadn't been pain. Ock's lips parted the way they had when Spider-Man had brought him down to the ground with him, when they'd both ended that graceful fight high on adrenaline and a sort of elation.

Ock's pulled his thumb from Peter's mouth and his hand slipped to the back of his neck. He'd barely leaned forward when Peter leaned meet him, eagerly kissing him, giving in and reaching between them to stroke Ock's dick through the fabric of his own costume. Peter felt his entire body stiffen, and he started rubbing firmly at the head of Peter's cock. In revenge? Whatever the reason, Peter closed his eyes tightly, moaning into Ock's mouth and trying not to just come immediately from that.

He wanted Ock badly, wanted their costumes _off,_ or at least the inconvenient bits out of the way. This... this felt safer, though. It was ridiculous that any part of him was still thinking of any of this as safe, they'd left that behind the moment Spider-Man had pulled up his mask to kiss Doctor Octopus, but so long as they were clothed there was still some barrier between them, even if he was pressing closer against Ock's soft curves and they were rocking against each other, and all of Ock's free arms including all four metal ones and one of his normal ones were wrapped firmly around him. Even if Ock was kissing him like he wanted Peter to swallow down every sound he made in that voice...

He came harder than he could remember coming alone in his room or in the shower, even fantasizing about things like this. His hips stuttered, his knees bent and his legs shook. He was barely even thinking about touching Ock through that, but it almost seemed like he didn't need to; he was pressed close enough that Ock was simply back to rubbing up against his thigh, and he felt his cock twitch as he came. That and the quiet moan close to his ear were things he was going to remember for a long time, he already knew that, no matter how many times Ock said not to think or say or feel about it.

He still wanted the whirling arms, the combat, the dance. Besides, he wasn't going to stop fighting Doctor Octopus, stop _stopping_ him. No. Never. But this... he wanted this too, the arousal and ecstacy and the heaviness in his limbs, metal arms wound around him not trying to capture or crush, breath on his skin and the taste of Ock's mouth in his own. Being allowed to be pressed close to warm flesh and to bury his face in Ock's shoulder, his chest, his neck.

"Stop," Ock said quietly. His voice was oddly gentle, and it was the pincer end of one of his metal arms that pulled down Peter's mask again that time, stopping him pressing his lips to his neck. Mostly stopping him. Putting fabric in the way, at least. "We're done. We have to be done."

"I don't want that," Peter whispered.

"You know better than this, Spider-Man. There is no possible way-"

He lifted his head, was louder than he meant to be. "I know! I do know! And you were right, this was a mistake-" That, that right there was what made Ock wince, he tried not to but Peter caught it and fell silent.

"Would that you had realized that sooner, arachnid." Ock's voice was soft, unreadable.

"I did." He was quiet again himself, but the words came out in a rush. "But it's one I wanted to make, and I don't want to unmake it, or forget it. You can't tell me you'll be able to forget this, Doc. Dr. Octavius."

Ock looked away from him, but admitted, voice low, "No. I can't."

"And you wanted to kiss me-" He realized, "You wanted _me_ to kiss _you_ weeks ago." They were still close enough that he felt the shiver Ock almost succeeded in hiding, and he knew what he was saying, what he was thinking, was crazy, but he felt emboldened. "So if I kissed you again-"

"What you're suggesting isn't fair on either of us." He looked back at Peter and Peter fell silent. "I am not going to stop, Spider-Man. And I know you well enough by now to know that you won't, either. You will fight me, and ruin my every plan, because you believe I am dangerous and insane. And I will fight you, and you will be faced with death, if not from me then from my allies. We... this..." He seemed at a loss for how to describe it, but continued, "can't survive such things, surely."

"Maybe not," Peter agreed. "Because I will keep stopping you. Maybe you're not insane, and I still don't think you're a killer, but you go too far and I can't let that slide. But even without... whatever this is, I don't think you'd want me dead. We're too tied up in each other, and I balance you out. And whatever this is, maybe it wouldn't last anyway. But..."

"I liked you better when you weren't talking," Ock grumbled.

Behind the mask, Peter grinned. "You are going to have so many thoughts about how to make me shut up," he couldn't help teasing, and God, the way Ock went red did so many things to him. He leaned to press his mouth to Ock's ear, even with his mask in the way, and whispered, "I think it'd be worth it."

Ock shivered. "To try...?" he murmured, and Peter swayed toward him. Damn.

"To try," he agreed softly.

"Perhaps..." Ock began, and the now-familiar sound of a rift in space opening interrupted him. They both looked in that direction, at the wall of the cocoon.

There was the sound of more than one set of footprints, and then, unfortunately, the Vulture's voice from somewhere above. "Octavius? What in the blazes-"

Peter had figured either the Tinkerer or Iron Man would reverse-engineer the accident, and the Six had apparently noticed what had happened first. Somehow, the flicker of relief on Ock's face kept him from being able to mind too much. He pulled up his mask over his mouth again.

"Wh-"

Ock falling quiet didn't have much to do with not being able to speak. Peter kissed the corner of his mouth, then whispered into the startled silence, "As soon as they open this thing I'm gonna make a break for the portal. Don't stop me; if I have to fight I don't think either of us want to explain my costume right now." He was a mess, and with Ock's long jacket it was at least a little easier to hide.

Ock opened his mouth, then covered his face with one hand, groaning quietly. "Just go," came the muffled answer.

Peter grinned, then pulled his mask back down again. "Right," he agreed, pulling back but still quiet.

When Kraven ripped open the web cocoon, Spider-Man was ready for it, blinding him with a blast of webbing and sending a second string straight in the direction of the open portal to tether it to whatever he could on the other side. Kraven and Vulture weren't expecting that, and Electro just barely missed him as he swung his way through, and though Tinkerer wasn't alone on the other side he avoided Sandman and just beelined his way out. This had been a rescue mission anyway, they weren't actively doing anything wrong. Thwarting them could at least wait until after a shower.

 _Perhaps._ Wow. Well, "perhaps" was going to have to do for now, at least.

Maybe he'd have a little time to wonder what the hell he was thinking after he finished his homework.

**Author's Note:**

> One of my biggest ships! This is mostly inspired by comics-verse, but it has some elements of The Spectacular Spider-Man (the cartoon) as well as a few other cartoon and game sources. I hope you enjoy this and it hit what you like about your prompts!


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